Take Me As I Could Be
by MaidenStar
Summary: 'Forgive me, just listen to my story, cause anything I should be, I will in time.' Imperfect by nature, and fundamentally blind to the fact that The One for them is sitting right at the desk opposite.
1. Take Me As I Could Be

'_Falling,  
__my steps are getting smaller.  
__Fear is taking over my mind.'_

Take Me As I Could Be

"Oh for goodness sake Harry, do you actually try to be this annoying or is it just a talent that comes naturally to you?" Nikki half-shouts in frustration as she storms out of the changing room and into the main office. He's hot on her heels, just as angry as she is that she can't, or won't, come round to _his_ view of things.

They both see Leo sit up straighter and take note of what's going on, prepared to diffuse anything if slides and samples start getting slung across the room or something else equally ridiculous. They both ignore him.

Most of the time their equally-matched intellect and passion for getting to the bottom of cases is a match made in heaven, they can work together and prove why they're two of the best pathologists Leo has ever met. Sometimes, when they don't agree about the evidence they're examining, World War Three erupts and Leo doesn't like the idea of the case, the office or indeed himself getting caught up in the carnage that surrounds the blitz of words that act like bombs to destroy the other entirely.

For two people who are so obviously in love, they're pretty darned stupid about it.

They're at the point where they're literally shouting at each other, so he emerges from his office.

"What in God's name is going on?" he asks calmly but it's enough to stop them both in their tracks, mid shout.

"Would you like to tell Leo how ridiculous you're being, or shall I?" Harry asked brusquely and Leo thinks he sees Nikki flinch a little now that she herself has calmed down.

"_I'm _being ridiculous? I'm not the one who can't see past my own prejudices, Harry!"

"I am not prejudiced, I'm simply telling you what the information is telling me, and should be telling you if you'd stop trying to defend that bloody woman!"

Nikki is whispering quietly, angrily, Harry is still shouting, his fists clenched, disbelief written all over his face.

"Am I going to have ask again?" not for the first time, Leo felt like a headmaster and the lab felt like a playground.

"The Underdown case, Harry seems to have gotten it into his thick head that Julie Underdown _must_ have killed her 8 year old son through neglect or maybe something even worse, just because she didn't bow to your apparent good looks and charm and I couldn't possibly imagine _why_," she said, speaking at first to Leo, then to Harry directly.

In return Harry seemed to look right through her, ignoring that she was talking straight at him, addressing his boss instead.

"No, Leo, it is _not_ because of that, but an ape could see that the marks and abrasions on his arms and legs are signs of neglect at best and abuse at worst!"

"There is no evidence whatsoever that Dylan Underdown's death was anything more than a terrible accident, that woman is distraught and so is her daughter, how can you say that she had anything to do with it? If you accuse her on some ridiculous pieces of evidence you _think_ you've found then she's going to lose two children in one fell swoop! Could you live with that?"

"I don't know, will you be able to live with yourself when Emily Underdown is on the slab next?"

"Harry!" Leo said sharply, "that's enough. Seeing as you two seem incapable of doing an objective examination on this one, it looks like _I'm_ going to have to go and give a second – third – opinion. One of you can phone Janet and tell her why I'm not going to be at lunch. And for goodness sake calm down and grow up."

He walked off hoping that the two of them would just leave it at that. No such luck.

"So I'm an ape now am I?"

"That's not what I said."

"No it's what you implied."

"No, I said even an ape could see what the evidence was showing them. You seem incapable of even that right now. Is it because it's a child that's dead or because the obvious suspect is a woman?"

"I beg your pardon?" her voice was rising again, his was still at a crescendo.

"You heard me." He was storming off towards the door, jacket under his arm, fumbling for his car keys.

"Where are you going now for God's sake?"

"Out, anywhere, I can't deal with you when you're being this stupid!"

He regretted the words and the actions the moment the door slammed behind him, but he couldn't seem to stop himself, he paused and wondered if he should go back in, but he heard her strangled sob and was too much of a coward to witness the upset he had caused.

The moment the situation had diffused, Nikki felt weak and drained on the other side of the door. She heard Harry's footsteps pause as if he were thinking. She steels herself for him to come in and say something else equally rude and horrible, but he appeared to give up on it and just walk away.

She dropped her head to her palms and blinked back tears of frustration and anger, rubbing her eyes with the heels of her hands. Why did they always do this to each other? It was hard enough that for the past few weeks Harry had seemed to be oblivious to her at best and hateful towards her at most. But how in God's name had she let herself fall for him? He was her colleague and, sometimes, when they got on, they were best friends too. Ever since her mother had died, Nikki had made sure that she never needed anyone. You couldn't trust other people, they let you down. They disappeared when the next big thing came along or they betrayed your trust. So how did she come to need Harry so bloody much?

'_Believe me,  
__never thought I'd be here.  
__Always such a strong girl inside.'_

All of the guys she'd liked in her life, it had never felt remotely like this. She had never wanted to spend all day with them, or wake up next to them every morning or talk about marriage or kids.

Kisses and touches and empty words with other men were just for fun and sex was just what couples did . But she longed to feel his lips against hers, and bury herself into him and let him hold her close and kiss her hair and lose herself entirely.

So this was love, was it? This was how it felt?

Well in that case then, love was bloody crap and she never wanted to feel it again. But even Nikki wasn't able to tell herself that it was that simple.

Maybe if they worked at it, it would be in time, but they just weren't ready yet. She was still hooked on flings with unsuitable men and him on sex with women that were far too young and mattered far too little.

'_Rejection.  
__is supposed to make me harder.  
__But still I can't avoid the darkness  
__that comes creeping in.'_

And she wondered if he cared that he was breaking her. Or if he thought that it was okay for him to do so. But deep down she knew that he probably didn't know he was doing it. Did that make it worse that she was so angry at him?

Recently, she'd been wondering when she'd let things go downhill so badly. All she'd ever tried to do was be the best that she could be. She'd tried to be the best at school in science class, then at university, then later as a pathologist. She was a perfectionist and had never, ever settled for less. At least, not when it came to the standards she set for herself to adhere to. And yet she had no-one, nothing but her job and some washed-up feelings for a colleague that probably didn't have the first clue about the things he did to her, both good and bad. Why had her own achievements never been quite enough?

'_Perfection,  
__is all I've tried to reach for,  
__just leaves me disappointed each time.'_

Just as she had started gathering some papers together to try and muddle a report out of the brain that currently felt if it had been rattled around her skull she heard the door open and turned around to find Harry standing there, looking pale and slightly shell-shocked. He couldn't have gone far.

"Nikki, listen I just wanted to say something about before."

"No."

"I just came back to – what?"

"I said no Harry. I'm tired of this, of us being at each other's throats, of everything. I've heard what you had to say and it's been a truly eye-opening experience, and I have to say, it's nice to know what you really think of me."

"You know that's not what I really think of you, don't be –"

"Stupid? You've already said that."

"I know, I know, and I'm sorry, okay? I'm really sorry. I didn't mean any of it. It just, came out, I wasn't thinking, I never think when I'm that angry and it –. Well, it doesn't matter."

"What?" she asked softly and could have kicked herself. So that was it was it? She'd forgiven him already. Idiot.

"It scares me, Nikki," he replied plainly and his voice was so honest and true that it caught her off guard a little. "It scares me that I have literally never, ever thought anything of the like about you and I don't expect you to believe me right now, but it _is_ the truth. It scares me that I wasn't aware of what I was saying or how I was acting or that I was shouting like a little kid. It scares me that no matter how often I try not turn into him, I do." It was his turn to bury his head in his hands and sigh. He dragged his fingers through his hair and looked at her beseechingly. "Be angry at me, ignore me for a bit, give me all your worst reports to type up, punch me in the face. Do whatever you like Nikki, but please don't believe a word of what I said."

She sighed. She was having a mental dilemma right now. She was really, really angry at him for taking out everything on her and for still thinking that he was turning into his father but she felt bad for him. She hadn't behaved much better herself. And before they had left the changing room, she had said some pretty horrible things to him. She was pretty ashamed of herself now she came to think about it.

'_Take me,  
__take me as I could be,  
__not how I'm acting lately,  
_'_cause it's not me.  
__It's not me.'_

"Oh for goodness sake, what the hell?" she shrugged and he looked confused. "I'm sorry too. We were both acting like little kids. Leo was right, we need to grow up."

You'd catch more flies with honey than with vinegar after all.

He moved slowly over and wrapped his arms around her, holding her close and kissing her hair. She blinked back another frustrated tear at the way her heart skipped when he held her. She knew she was probably wrong but it felt like it was going to be this way forever. And it felt like every time he got angry or found someone else to date and fill his time with and she was put on the shelf, she broke a little bit more. And every time she swore she'd had enough – that she'd give it all up. But she just forgave him every bloody time. She wondered if it made her weak, but there was something nicer and kinder in the back of her mind telling her differently. This was love, it was meant to be blind.

Get the landing net and take her home for tea. She was his; hook, line and sinker.

But then again, she didn't know that he was thinking exactly the same thing.

"You gonna forgive me at some point?" he asked and she could tell from his voice that he really, really needed this.

"Of course," she felt him sigh. "At some unspecified point in the future. After much grovelling. Woman's prerogative." He chuckled slightly.

"Friends?"

"That's pushing your luck a bit don't you think? But yes," she replied and she meant it.

"Best friends?"

"Don't flatter yourself."

'_Forgive me,  
__just listen to my story.  
_'_Cause anything I should be,  
__I will in time,  
__I will in time…'_

-/-/-

A/N: Hello :-) I just wanted to write a couple of quick disclaimers about this fanfiction. Firstly, it's come about as me always noting down ideas I've had for SW fics, usually from songs or quotes, which is why they'll always have some kind of lyric or passage in them at some point – start, middle, or end – or maybe all three like this one. But basically, I'm going to compile them into a multi-chapter fic, rather than having loads of little oneshots dotted around. So it'll be like a little journey through moments of Harry and Nikki's lives, with a fair amount of Leo dotted in too. Or at least, I hope it will. The chapters will vary in length and subject with some more angsty and some more fluffy. So, it goes without saying, this will not be a story with a continuous plot (though I hope to get one of those up too), so if that's what you're expecting then I'm sorry but this will definitely disappoint you.

Secondly, I can't say how regularly it'll be updated. I have uni exams at the moment so for the next three weeks it might be quite slow, but for the four after that, I'm totally free, so it might be quicker.

Thirdly, I don't actually know the last time I wrote a fanfic, and it's certainly been too long for SW. I've only written one other fic for this fandom and I'm not really that keen on it anymore, so I hope I haven't destroyed the good name and high quality of this fandom with my presence! This will be un-beta'd so all mistakes are mine alone. Also, I've not quite got through all the stories in this fandom yet (but I must be like ¾ of the way!) so if any of the oneshots resemble anyone else's then I'm sorry, it wasn't intentional!

And finally, I really hope you'll enjoy this, and I will say now that anything recognisable such as place names, characters, situations, quotes or lyrics are not mine, I'm merely having fun with them – no stealing intended! And the author's notes will never normally be as long as this one, I promise!

So yeah, please let me know how you felt about this and I would be up for maybe trying my hand at any song/quote requests so if you have anything you'd want me to put in to stop this from become utter mindless, mushy, angsty H/N drivel then do let me know! Also, this song is one of my current favourites and yet is relatively unheard of, so you should all check it out, it's beautiful and makes me think of H/N every time!

Thanks for reading, please drop me a review with some comments!


	2. Everything

'_You're a falling star,  
__you're the getaway car.  
__You're the line in the sand, when I go too far.'_

Everything

"Number 52?"

"Yep, that's us," Harry confirmed to his companion as he stood up to make his way to the counter, musing as he did so at life's infinite complexities and unexpected twists and turns. Or, more accurately, wondering how he came to be sat, dressed in full suit and dinner jacket, in this somewhat nocuous-looking pizza place with his best friend and colleague, Nikki Alexander who was rather over-dressed herself, in a midnight blue, one-shoulder cocktail dress and heels. She smiled at him as he walked over and paid for the food and grabbed it from the counter, it looked less than appetising even encased in cardboard boxes and a white plastic bag that looked lank and damp from condensation.

"Where do you want to go?" he asked her, "mine's closest," he added and once again, she just smiled. It was all she needed to do really; it lit up the whole room in every way. Even if they had been appropriately dressed for such an establishment, he imagined the two slightly grimy-looking men (that was the only accurate way to sum them up) who were standing in the corner, chewing like cows on their kebab meat would still be staring at her, even though she was neither the loudest, nor the most scantily clad woman in there at the time. He took an instinctive step closer to her as they left, holding the door open for her to pass.

"Do you want to get a cab?" he offered but she shook her head.

"It's hardly worth it," she answered, it being the first time she had spoken in a while. "If we take the shortcut it'll only take us fifteen minutes – it'll probably take longer in the taxi as we'll have to go all the way round." And that was that as she began walking off purposefully in the direction of Harry's flat. He glanced pessimistically at her thin jacket and open-toed heels and asked if she was sure. But _of course she was sure,_ or so she told him.

Nonetheless, this did not prevent him from courteously (and in what he considered to be a dashingly chivalrous manner) shrugging off his much warmer and more practical coat and tucking it round her shoulders. He didn't understand how she hadn't complained, it was absolutely freezing!

They then entered into serious negotiation, as they always did in these situations.

"Really Harry, thank you but you don't have to," she protested, trying to hand it back.

"No it's fine, I don't mind," he insisted and, true to form, this argument was repeated a few times before he in the end resorted to telling her that if she gave it back he would refuse to wear it, so one of them might as well be warm.

"Stubborn git. But thank you."

This was how it always went, from her original protest to the final outcome. But still, it was a ritual they seemed unable to break.

Nikki always knew that, right from the beginning of those discussions, she would eventually lose and was generally rather happy to do so; the jacket was pleasantly oversized for her and was warm and cosy and smelt of Harry. She covered her face up to her nose and nuzzled into the slightly scratchy, marl fabric.

"Besides, I owe it to you," he continued.

"Why?"

"It's definitely my fault you're out here in the first place."

Nikki shook her head emphatically and tsk tsk-ed the notion, but they both knew he was right. Having been at the most important event of the year in the prestigious _British Association in Forensic Medicine_ calendar together-but-separately, it was Harry who had had the rather noticeable argument with that absolute _idiot_ of a man, Keith Owen, how in God's name he had ever become a doctor, let alone a forensic pathologist was absolutely beyond Harry.

He couldn't even remember what they had disagreed on, but Harry had known from the moment that Owen (who had been a fellow medical student at university) had approached him that this night was going to go from bad to worse. Not only had he not yet managed to find Nikki out of a room of what essentially might as well have been their patients rather than the pathologists themselves, but Owen's father was quite well known in the field and was 'generously funding' much of the dinner and drinks for the night. As it was they were only there because Leo had insisted they should show their faces and when they had both whined like children and asked why he couldn't go instead, he had simply replied that it wasn't his type of place. Bloody man. If Harry hadn't known better, he would have suspected that Leo was trying to match make. _Again. _

Once the argument at this dinner (not that dinner had even started yet) had escalated it was unlikely that Harry would have been able to stay and show his face in polite conversation for the rest of the evening, so he was beyond lucky that Nikki had shown up at this point, linked arms with Harry, apologised to Owen and, implying that they were together, had insistently nudged him away and out of the building. Thank God she had stopped him when she did. Things really had been getting quite personal. But then, Nikki had always been there to stop him going too far. Or to pick up the pieces when she hadn't quite made it in time.

Leo would be furious tomorrow when he found out that the Lyell Centre had had what was essentially worse than no representation at the dinner and doubly furious at Harry when he found out why.

"It's not as though I wanted to be there in the first place," she replied with a casual shrug, somewhat hindered by the coat. "Though that was quite a spectacle you were making. What exactly _were_ you arguing over?"

"I don't even know now, really. Just some sanctimonious comment he made about something at university," he said, attempting to brush off how trivial the whole thing had been. There really had been no need to let bloody Owen anger him like that, but he never did seem to find the knack of keeping a hold of his temper.

"Well," she began as they stepped into the relative warmth of the apartment block and then into the apartment itself, which was the definition of toasty, "you'd better tell Leo it was about the reputation and integrity of the Lyell Centre, or some new and controversial discovery or technique. Don't worry," she gave him a playful nudge and a dazzling smile, "I'll back you up."

And Harry didn't doubt that she would.

As she had been speaking, they had begun to shed clothing - in appropriate ways (at least, far more appropriate than Harry would have wanted). She hung his coat up on the right hook in the hallway, being perfectly familiar by now with just about everything in his flat and where its correct spot was.

Harry got the wine, the glasses and the plates while Nikki kicked her heels off and made her way over to the sofa, channel-hopping through the TV and trying to find something worth watching at 10.30pm on a Wednesday. Her search proved fruitless however and she settled on some relatively harmless-looking crime drama rerun.

Harry settled down next to her, the two of them leaning instinctively into each other as they always did, taking comfort from the warmth of the other's body and the perfect way in which they fitted together.

They must have looked ridiculous to anyone else. The two of them dressed up to the nines, only to be sat on a sofa watching some unheard of channel on the TV and eating takeout pizza and chips. The only thing that didn't seem to look entirely incongruous next to them was the wine that they were slowly but surely getting through.

Nikki had never been amazing at holding her alcohol when the drink in question was wine. It just never seemed to like her as much as she liked it. Half a bottle was always enough to make her feel slightly hazy and any more was getting into dangerous territory. So when Harry cracked open the second bottle she knew it was a bad idea to accept the glass he gave her, when they were expected to be at work at 9.30 tomorrow. Actually, no, it was long past midnight, so make that 9.30 today.

She tried to hide a yawn behind her hand as she stretched slightly, nudging Harry's knee with her own.

"Boring you am I?"

"As always, Dr. Cunningham," she smiled, yawning again.

He mock sighed and told her she always knew where the door was. "Don't let it hit you on the way out."

"Mmm, whatever you say Harry, but you know you'd be sitting on your own right now, if I hadn't kindly agreed to come back with you and share my wonderful company and high-brow wit." Her argument was somewhat hindered by the fact that she yawned again, damnit.

"Well it's not my fault you're clearly a lightweight. Or that you're clearly getting old."

"And it's not mine that we had to walk all the way here at 10.30 at night."

"Aha, so you do think it's my fault?" they were still joking but there was a different note in Harry's voice, one that Nikki knew was his way of questioning whether she was annoyed at him.

"Well, _technically_ yes it was, but that doesn't mean I care, or that I would have preferred being there to being here," she answered firmly, kissing him on the cheek sweetly before standing up. "It's late, can I stay?" she asked. Without waiting for an answer she wandered off to his room. From behind her he shouted,

"Would it matter if I said no?"

She just smiled to herself and let herself into his bedroom.

The layout of the room, as well as the smell of Harry, was so familiar that it felt like home. Without even switching the light on she knew to dodge the pairs of shoes he wore so often that he never bothered to put away and to step over the dodgy corner of the rug that wouldn't lie flat on the floor (an impressive feat given how unstable she felt, though she'd never admit it). She pulled out a pair of old pyjama trousers and a well-worn, baggy t-shirt that had once been Harry's from a drawer that had, for a long time, been known as 'Nikki's drawer'.

She changed in his tiny en suite, brushing her teeth and using cosmetics from the stuff arranged neatly on the left-hand half of the middle shelf of the cupboard, where a gap had been made for her a long time ago.

They had long since acknowledged that their arrangements of eating takeout and drinking wine at one another's flats were impractical in nature and it had been Nikki that had first taken provision against this. Harry, pronouncing it unfair that she had 'invaded his life' so fully had insisted that he have the same privileges at her home. They both secretly loved that the other had moved in just a little bit and these nights together occurred with such a frequency (and they of course saw each other day-in, day-out at work) that it really was like being an old-married couple sometimes.

'_You're every minute of my every day.'_

Unbeknownst to each other they had both often wondered just how long they could stay like this, being the _everything_ in each other's lives without giving in to the fact that there was clearly something else there, just a little bit out reach. Though it was easy enough to wrap up and put away for now, they both knew it was growing just a little stronger and a little less easy to ignore with every day that went past. It was like a wave, which started off far out at sea and grew bigger with every bit of progress it made into the shore. And it was getting angrier and more passionate with every roll it made and when it reared its head, white horses clamouring to be let free as it crashed upon the shore, there was nothing they were going to be able to do about it. And it terrified them both, because who knew if they were going to survive it?

But for now, it was okay to just be each other's constant – to be the lighthouse in the storm, guiding each other when they needed to muddle through. They both needed someone to tell them where the rocks were or to help them get off when they got stranded.

'_And in this crazy life,  
__and through these crazy times,  
__it's you, it's you  
__you make me sing.  
__You're every line,  
__you're every word,  
__you're every thing.'_

So for now, there were no questions asked when they had both gotten ready for bed and changed into their comfiest, oldest pyjamas and Nikki had clambered under the covers in the space on the left-hand side of the bed that Harry, already asleep, had left beside him. She curled up with her back to him, and his to hers, though they both knew that in the morning they would have gravitated like magnets to be lying side by side, their heads inclined towards each other.

They had long ago agreed that they wouldn't let the other sleep on the sofa (because, really, when has _'no, it's your house'_ ever trumped _'well, you're the guest'_ or vice versa?).

And in the morning, Harry always privately thought that it was his favourite time of the day to be with Nikki, particularly if they had woken up on a Sunday, when they were usually on call, no obligation to rush into the office. She would wake up, her hair tangled beautifully (really, how did she do that? Harry was sure that his hair was always a crazy nest sticking up from his head first thing in the morning), her brown eyes slightly misty from sleep and there was always a slight confusion about how on earth she found herself lying in bed beside him, though there was always the wine to blame for the slight memory loss. Then she would bid him good morning, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, smile shyly at him and excuse herself to the bathroom, after having grabbed her spare change of day clothes from the drawer she had adopted before wandering off to wash and change, her shower gel and shampoo being on the second shelf in the bathroom.

'_And you play it coy,  
__but it's kind of cute.  
__And when you smile at me  
__you know exactly what you do.'_

They sometimes wondered if Leo ever suspected (incorrectly) that something was going on when they turned up at exactly the same time in the morning and left together in the same car at night, as they did the day after the failed dinner party. He would sometimes quirk a questioning eyebrow in Nikki's direction, but she would just pretend she hadn't seen. Today however, after letting them settle at their desks with some coffee from the cafetière he approached them to quiz them about the night before.

"How was the dinner?" he asked and Nikki caught Harry's startled look at no-one in particular.

"Yeah, it was okay," she replied non-commitally.

"Anything exciting happen?" he asked and they both knew that it was a double question: _'did anything happen at the dinner?'_ and _'did anything happen _after_ the dinner?'_

"Nope, nothing at all, right Harry?"

"Right."

'_You're every song  
__and I sing along  
_'_cause you're my everything.'_

-/-/-

A/N: Thanks again for reading and thanks so much to everyone who reviewed the first oneshot- your reviews were all so nice and made me smile! I hope this one was okay, probably a bit fluffier, and also the prime example of how these will not follow any remote type of timeline. Sometimes they'll be friends, sometimes they'll be enemies and sometimes they might be lovers. The pieces'll likely be written as they come to me, and probably won't be reordered that much. Basically it's gonna be like dropping a photo album and all the pictures being put back in the wrong order. If you guys don't like this format then I'll reorder them as much as I can when I write them, so just say the words :-).

Hope you enjoyed this one! Please use the spangly new(ish) review button to tell me what you thought :-D


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